


Masochist And Mental

by jossujb_OLD_FICS_ONLY (jossujb)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Insanity, Katra, M/M, Mental Breakdown, One Shot, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-05
Updated: 2009-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 01:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jossujb/pseuds/jossujb_OLD_FICS_ONLY
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Spocks death McCoy is feeling his Katra inside his head. Not that he knows what it is all about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masochist And Mental

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, and I've originally wrote this quite many years ago (09 I think) and no-one at the time was at hand to do any beta-reading for me, and right now I'm missing one too, so I post it as it was. But if someone likes to help me with grammar and spelling you're welcome to contact me.

I hear voice, not just any voice, _his_ voice inside my head.

Am I going mad? Some people loose their mind after someone real close to them passes away. My dear aunt Debbie went completely mental after her husband Errol died, she tried to bury herself alongside his husband coffin. At the time I thought that to be, in all cruel honesty, seriously crazy, and ordered some council and pills to cool her down.

Now I'm like Debbie, being almost psychotic. Yesterday, when I woke up, I didn't remember I was Leonard Horatio McCoy, like I've been since I was born. I saw my old wrinkly face in the mirror and wondered how I lost my ears.

_Ears._

I believed I was a _Vulcan_. And not just _any_ Vulcan, no. Him. I was him, at least, I thought I was. It didn't feel like I was pretending. Me, as I know myself, just puff! Seized to exist and I was Spock. Wondering in a dry voice how my room was all so illogical, full of unnecessary stuff lying around.

I'm afraid to tell anyone, even to Jim. He's mourning. I'm mourning too, but it's hard to be rightfully sad and hurt when your mind is loosing. I've took some drugs to keep me sane, but I'm not sure does that do any good for me. I doubt. Drinking only makes it worse, since when I'm drunk I totally lose myself for the moment. That voice may take over if I intoxicate myself too much.

I miss Spock. I really do. I just don't want him to move inside my head, that's all.

I loved him too, you know. Not like I love Jim, or Scotty, or Christine, I loved him sort of... well, romantically. Not that I'd ever admit it though. I realized it quite long time ago too, but I let it pass. I don't believe you can live together in those little tin cans they call spaceships without growing a liking for someone. For me it was Spock.

I bet my brains are too damn simple to differentiate annoyance and arousal from one another, but every time I found myself deeply annoyed that effing green-blooded son of a bitch I turned on. Same thing happened with my ex-wife, and by God, I hated that woman. But more I felt angry, the more I got excited. I must be somewhat masochist. I have to like being punched in the stomach so goddamn much as I put myself in position where I'm be tossed around like an idiot over and over again.

Now that smart ass hero is dead and I'm going apeshit. Is this some sort of a revenge from the universe for never revealing my true feelings? Or in the other hand, am I just an old schizophrenic?

Please Spock, leave me alone! Go away, I don't want you to invade my head.

 _Please_.

I'm sorry for those nasty things I said about you, those were not fair statements most of the time. I'm sorry for bullying you because of your pointy ears all the time. I liked them really, they were nice. More than nice. But still I would like you to take a hike.

Maybe this is just some weird side-effect of a terrible loss. Yeah. Aunt Debbie got stable after a while, so why wouldn't I? I just have to be patient and think myself through this. No despair.

Problem is naturally, that I'm full with despair and feeling like I could cry forever. But I have to be like a good Southern man. This will pass.

Hopefully.

**FIN**


End file.
